


Interlude

by Tahlruil



Series: Winding Roads to Flowering Fields [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Also on My Phone, Couch Cuddles, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, Funny Condom Slogans, Getting Together, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Ignores Canon After Season Three, M/M, POV Sheriff Stilinski, Post-Nogitsune, Pre-Slash Peter/Stiles, Sheriff Stilinski is Doing His Best, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Stiles Loves Research And His Dad, you can pry that from my cold dead hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-08 22:21:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14703630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tahlruil/pseuds/Tahlruil
Summary: "My dearest father. Dad. Pops. Pa. Old man. Male parental unit. It has come to my attention that you and Christopher have begun a new stage in your courtship.""Jesus Stiles, we're not... it's not like that." Stiles quirked a brow and gave him a look that made John want to hang his head while blushing and stuttering an excuse. He was the parent, dammit. His son should not be able to make him feel like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Chris is... a friend. I have no idea why you think--"





	Interlude

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! :D I'm posting again, yay! Sorry for the delay in updates, I fell into a weird place in my head.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and maybe leave a comment if you liked it.
> 
> Also, if anyone is interested in beta-ing/being a sounding board for the next installment of this series, please check out the end notes!

"Hey Dad?"

John didn't need to hear anything more than that to already feel a headache coming on. He let out a sigh and closed his eyes before bringing his left had up to rub at both of them. "Son, is anyone dead?"

"What? No! Not that I know of at least, not today, and anyway why would you even... that's just ridiculous. Here I am trying to start a heart-to-heart conversation, father-to-son, man-to-man, and you ask me about dead people? Me? Your teenage son? What kind of world are we living in that a greeting from your beloved only child would provoke such a reaction?"

"Stiles... I love you kiddo, but I also know you. Either someone's dead and you need legal counsel or..." John dropped his hand to look up into his son's eyes, and what he saw there was, frankly, way more frightening than a possible murder. "Aw, hell. Stiles, there is nothing--"

"My dearest father. Dad. Pops. Pa. Old man. Male parental unit. It has come to my attention that you and Christopher have begun a new stage in your courtship."

"Jesus Stiles, we're not... it's not like that." Stiles quirked a brow and gave him a look that made John want to hang his head while blushing and stuttering an excuse. He was the parent, dammit. His son should not be able to make him feel like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Chris is... a friend. I have no idea why you think--"

"There was cuddling happening on that couch last night, so don't even try--"

"We were not _cuddling_ , Jesus."

"Then what was going on, huh? Because he pulled that oh-so-unsubtle 'I'm so tired, just let me stretch and oops, put my arm down around your shoulders' move, which is just... I mean, I can't fault him for falling back on the classics, but come on! That's supposed to be a teenage thing, an 'I don't know how to relationship' thing. That's a thing I should be doing, and I would totally try to pull it if someone would actually date me," John barely suppressed a snort, because he had seen the way Stiles cuddled up to Peter. Maybe the 'wolf didn't pretend to stretch first, but his arm was almost always draped across Stiles' shoulders. "But a grown man should not lack that much smooth. Tell your guy to up his game, and also tell him that I'm going to need to know what his intentions are--"

"Stiles!" John could feel his ears burning, and he sort of wanted to run away. He was a grown man, dammit, a _sheriff_ , and Stiles was just a kid. But denying it only seemed to be feeding into Stiles' glee and suspicion, so maybe it _was_ time to disengage.

"Now I know it's been a while for you and you might not be up on the latest info available on copulation." Dread pooled in John's stomach at the look of unholy delight in his son's eyes... and then he saw the folder in Stiles' hands.

Oh no. Oh dear God no. Stiles had done _research_.

"Now, first thing's first - condoms. No glove, no love, am I right?" Horror had him paralyzed as Stiles set the folder on the table and flipped it open. The first page was a graph, and John felt color and heat flood his face. "I looked into some brands of those and lube--"

"Nope. Nope nope nope." He stood up quickly and pointed one finger at his son, scowling in the face of the kid's grin. "No. I am not having this conversation with you. Dammit Stiles, I am an adult and if I needed anything like... like condoms I am perfectly capable of... but I don't, because there is nothing going on. Alright?"

"Alright," Stiles agreed, hands in the air. His easy capitulation made John's eyes narrow in suspicion.

"I mean it Stiles."

"Got it."

"There's nothing going on anyway."

"Sure thing, daddio."

"So you'll leave it alone."

"Right."

"Okay."

"Okay."

He eyed Stiles for a few more seconds, wondering how long the kid would _actually_ leave it alone. Not long at all, he figured, especially if he didn't leave the room. There was a game he wanted to catch anyway, which meant he could head to the living room without it being classified as running away. So he wiped the scowl off his face and nodded... then came to a realization.

For the first time in months, it felt like he had been talking to his kid instead of the shadow Stiles had turned into. There had never been a twist of sorrow in his voice or a hint of panic on his face. Stiles had been all teasing smiles and sly humor, eyes gleaming with happiness. He was putting on weight again, and the bags under his eyes were slowly going back their pre-possession state.

Stiles was putting himself back together, and it was the most beautiful thing John had ever seen. Caught up in the emotion of the moment, John walked around the table and reeled Stiles in for a hug. Stiles returned it after a moment of confusion, and they stood like that for long moments. When John pulled back he pressed a kiss to Stiles' forhead.

"I love you kid," he said softly, voice thick and eyes feeling a little wetter than usual.

"Love you too dad."

They exchanged smiles that wobbled before John cleared his throat and stepped back completely. He didn't need that damned folder, because nothing was going to happen between him and Chris. Probably. Still, it was another sign that Stiles was getting better, that he was moving forward. So with an exaggerated sigh of exasperation, John took the thing in hand to bring with him.

Stiles broke out into another bright grin, but when he opened his mouth John stopped him by flapping the folder in his direction. "Not a word."

Stiles mimed zipping his lips, eyes sparkling again. John waited, just to make sure, then nodded and headed for the living room.

"Hey dad - cover your stump before you hump! Don't be silly, protect your willie!"

"Stiles."

"Come on, I've got dozens of 'em! When in doubt, cover your spout!"

" _Stiles_!"

~.~.~

Peter had been a Godsend for Stiles, but in the past couple weeks John had been even more thankful for Kira Yukimura. The 'wolf was fantastic at keeping Stiles from falling completely apart and now Kira... Kira was encouraging Stiles to venture out into the world again. Where before his kid only really left the house for pack meetings and to buy groceries, now he was heading out to have _fun_. The most amusing part was the way the two teens would often drag Peter along in their wake. He doubted Peter would have much fun at the Beacon County Fair, and he had looked utterly disgusted at the thought of going. But Kira had pouted and the 'were folded almost immediately. John wasn't sure how long he would actually stay there with the teens, but it was still hilarious to picture him walking around with his arms full of prizes he had won for Stiles and Kira, scowling all the while.

The latest outing meant John had the house to himself. It was something he had missed but now was discovering that he hated. It was too quiet, and the house seemed dark and cold without anyone else around. For a while he found himself wandering from room to room with a beer in hand, like he was expecting someone to pop up and say 'surprise'. Finally he forced himself to settle in his armchair and turned on the TV. Channel surfing wasn't much better than the wandering, but at least it let him pretend he wasn't lonely. He finished his beer before anyone got home and felt the old temptation rise - another drink might take the edge off, and a third would start to fill the hole in his heart. Getting drunk had always been the easy solution after losing Claudia, and it had taken him too damn long to realize that 'easy' didn't mean 'right'.

He was better at recognizing that now - he'd forced himself to get there, for Stiles and himself. It was just that when he was alone, when the ghosts of the past were louder than the present, it was harder to remember that.

He resolutely set the bottle aside and didn't get up for another. Chris would be home soon; he could hold on until then.

Eventually he settled on a channel playing the Harry Potter movies - it seemed one channel or another always was. John wasn't really a fan but Stiles was. He had seen the movies often enough that he didn't have to _think_ when he watched them. He could let his mind drift, get lost in the noise until the urge to drink faded. Halfway through the third movie - maybe the fourth, John didn't know and didn't really give a fuck anyway - he heard the front door open. Chris didn't call a hello, but John still knew it was him. The thought was only confirmed when he heard the creaking of the stairs soon after. Chris always headed upstairs as soon as he got in. The way he preferred to keep his shoes and coat in his room made John think that Chris still felt like a guest. It was a thought that made an ache rise up in his heart, but he didn't know how to change it. He sighed and ran his hand down his face, telling himself it didn’t really matter that Chris didn’t think of this house as home. Unbidden the conversation he had had with Stiles the day before sprang to mind leaving him blushing.

His embarrassment wasn't enough to keep him from shifting to the couch though. John wasn't expecting _cuddles_ or anything like what Stiles would have suggested. It would just be nice to have someone nearby, close enough to almost touch, close enough to feel their warmth. They weren't courting or anything like it, not the way Peter was slowly, carefully courting Stiles. They were just friends.

Only friends.

It took longer than usual for Chris to make his way back downstairs. Not that he paid attention to that kind of thing. Much. It had probably been a long day. John wasn't completely clear on what exactly Chris was doing for a living, but he got the feeling it was sometimes as stressful as being sheriff. Between that and the way Chris was still struggling with all the deaths in his family in recent years, sometimes he withdrew from the rest of them and spent long stretches of time alone. If he wasn't down in half an hour or so, John would make something for dinner and take it up to him.

When only fifteen more minutes passed before he heard the stairs again, John breathed a sigh of relief. Chris was in the doorway of the living room soon after; John looked over and swallowed hard. He had seen Chris in a lot of different situations over the years, seen him wearing a lot of different things. But seeing him like _this_ \- plaid sleep pants slung low on his hips, thin t-shirt hugging his torso, feet bare - always made his heart start beating faster. Chris in his sleepwear managed to look both soft and sexy. It made him remember all the tentative flirting they had done before Chris left for France. Seeing Chris like this always made him remember the hard line of Chris' body against his while he had been 'teaching' John how to better his shooting technique.

But none of that mattered. Allison had died and Chris had left. No matter what Stiles thought he saw, they were only friends.

Which was why his heart stopped and his blood ran cold when he saw a familiar folder in Chris' hand.

"Aw hell."

A smile broke over Chris' face, and John almost followed suit when the other man chuckled. "I've got to hand it to Stiles - he's very thorough."

"He's a menace."

Chris laughed at that, full-throated and happy. It was enough to let John relax again as Chris made his way to the couch. He clearly wasn't angry about Stiles' attempt to meddle, so John wouldn't have to kill the kid.

"He cares about you," Chris pointed out as he dropped down next to John. "He wants you to be happy. And safe - he goes into a lot of detail where safety is is concerned."

"I know. I got my copy yesterday. I didn't know he made one for you or I would have stopped him. Well," he amended when Chris snorted in disbelief. "I would have tried."

"Stiles would have gotten it to me one way or another. He's crafty. And a bit of a menace." Chris flashed a smile at him while shrugging one shoulder. "I like it that way. Seeing him so... this is better, diagrams of sexual positions and all." Chris tossed the folder onto the coffee table while John battled back a blush. "What are we watching?"

"Harry Potter. Couldn't tell you which one."

"They're all the same. Long titles, British accents, and kids fighting things they shouldn't have to." Suddenly Chris sounded haunted and John was right there with him. Their kids had lost so much innocence, been hurt _so much_ , and Allison...

Wordlessly John reached for the remote and handed it over. Chris' smile of thanks was tight but there, and he quickly turned to a channel playing a sitcom John hadn't ever seen before. The stupid plots and canned laughs were acceptable as background noise he guessed, though the lead guy seemed like a complete ass.

He wasn't surprised when Chris' arm found its way to the back of the couch - the man liked to sprawl when he sat. That meant one arm stretched and sometimes, like now, legs spread wide enough that his thigh was pressed to John's. It wasn't _cuddling_ , it was just how the man sat. He was used to it, and if it was why he had shifted his usual seat from the armchair to the couch... that was nobody else's business. It was all usual and expected, going the way a lot of nights that John had off did.

Then Chris' hand dropped to the back of his neck, warm and calloused and strong. That threw 'usual' right out the window. John was sure Chris heard the way his breath caught in his chest, because those strong fingers began to rub his neck soothingly.

Neither one of them said anything, and slowly John felt the tension bleed from his shoulders. Chris' hand stayed where it was for the rest of the episode and into the next. That was when his fingers began to idly play with the hair at the nape of John's neck. It was... it was nice, even better than those brief moments Chris' whole body had been pressed into his. This was simpler while feeling more intimate, and suddenly 'just friends' didn't seem to fit.

It didn't feel like enough.

Probably displaying the same 'lack of smooth' Stiles had accused Chris of, John drifted closer to Chris until they were touching from shoulder to thigh. Chris let out a breath that was almost a sigh; John didn't realize how tense the other man was until he relaxed completely. Now his arm was around John's shoulders, fingers stroking over John's upper arm. They still weren't talking about it, but maybe they didn't need to. Maybe this part didn't need words to complicate and challenge it. Maybe they could just pick up where they had left off before everything had fallen apart.

With that in mind, John slid one arm around Chris' middle and settled his head fully on Chris' shoulder. He had forgotten how nice it felt, this kind of touch and closeness. After Claudia's passing he had mostly been limited to hugs from Stiles. This was different, something he didn't know he had been missing so much. They were officially cuddling and John was enjoying it too much to be embarrassed.

He even closed his eyes to soak it all in as he let out a soft, happy hum. Chris responded by turning his head to press hi lips to John's temple in a gesture that lingered too long to be just a kiss.

"I'm sorry I didn't ask you to come with me," Chris whispered against his skin, so quiet that John almost didn't hear him.

Maybe they needed a few words after all.

"I'm sorry I didn't ask to go. ... I missed you. Thanks for coming back."

"I think I started looking for an excuse as soon as I knew Isaac was alright. Thanks for asking me to come back. I missed you too."

It felt natural as anything to sit up straighter so he could look Chris in the eyes. When their mouths came together in a slow, soft kiss, it wasn't world-changing. It wasn't overwhelming or full of fire and passion. It was simple, easy, comfortable; their kiss was like coming home after being away too long.

They broke apart only to come together again, then again. John lifted one hand to bring it to the back of Chris' head while Chris cupped his jaw to keep him close. Their kisses stayed languid and unhurried, the TV a distant noise in the background. John learned that Chris moaned softly when his hair was tugged, that he shivered whenever John lightly scratched his fingers through the stubble on his cheeks. He discovered that he liked the weight of Chris' form draped over his own and that he _loved_ the feeling of Chris' strong, rough, talented fingers dancing over his skin. As things grew more heated between them, John made noises he had forgotten he could. And when they finally came to a stop, panting against each other's mouths, John realized just how much he had wanted to be more than just friends with Chris.

Part of him wanted to drag Chris up to his room and explore the hard line he could feel pressing into his thigh. It had taken them almost a year to get here, months of careful overtures and trying not to push. Months of fighting side-by-side, explanations of the real life monsters that were only supposed to exist under the bed and in the closet. Loss and terror and grief had marked so much of their relationship. In a town like Beacon Hills either one of them could be the next to die, or Chris could leave again. Part of John was desperate to explore this thing _now_ , before they lost more time or something worse.

But before he could suggest heading upstairs, Chris hid his face against John's neck. His hands skimmed lazily up and down John's sides as he breathed against John's skin, pressing the occasional open-mouthed kiss to John's neck. It felt sweet, intimate... soft. It made John think that they had more than just that moment. He could grab hold of Chris and refuse to let go without needing to rush headlong into sex. They had time, and they had the unspoken understanding that if Chris left again he would be taking John with him.

So John ignored the temptation against his thigh, ignored the way he was hard as well. He just wrapped his arms around Chris and cradled him close, breathing him in and enjoying the moment. After a while, Chris snagged the remote and turned the TV off. The near silence that followed somehow made everything feel more real. It was easy to exist in the noise, and making out didn't need to mean anything.

Being comfortable with being quiet with someone else... that always meant something. Existing together in the soft moments between all the excitements and heartbreaks life offered was what made relationships last. They had the start of that, him and Chris, and he was more than content to just hold Chris in the quiet for as long as life would let him.

"I'm going to have to thank Stiles for the folder," Chris murmured. He sounded drowsy and his breaths were coming slow and steady. John was sure he would be falling asleep soon, and he would be doing it in John's arms. "Gave me the push I needed."

"Don't you dare. He'll start saying things like 'house your noodle then release your strudel' all the damn time. God, he's going to buy us condoms. I know he is." Chris just started to laugh, breath warm against his neck. "You think it's funny now, but just wait until he sits you down and makes you watch a powerpoint presentation about safe sex."

He loved his son, but he also _knew_ his son. Stiles was clearly supportive of John and Chris starting a romantic relationship... and when Stiles decided on something he was all-in. He would go too far because he cared too much - too much by 'normal' standards anyway. Stiles' morals might live in the grey (John had no illusions when it came to that), but his feelings were far more black and white. You were his or you weren't; he cared too much or not at all; he gave everything he had or he gave nothing.

It was why John knew that Peter's plan to slowly win Stiles over was doomed to failure. Now that Stiles was coming back to himself, he would decide how he felt about Peter sooner rather than later. John fully expected him to come down on the side of loving Peter. He was pretty sure that before the year came to a close he was going to have to give Stiles a stern lecture about why he wasn't allowed to have sex with Peter until he was eighteen. Stiles' all or nothing attitude was why he knew Stiles would buy condoms for him and Chris, would put together embarrassing powerpoints, and would be constantly encouraging them to go out and have a good time.

Stiles had decided he wanted them together, so he would throw everything he had into supporting them. He'd also go after anyone who had anything negative to say about them... so he would have to warn Peter to keep his teasing to a reasonable level. Stiles would shank the 'were otherwise, and he didn't see that ending well for anyone in their little four person pack.

That was a thought for later though, when he wasn’t lying on the couch with a man he cared about draped on top of him. Just then it was more important to run his hands up and down Chris’ spine to help nudge him towards sleep. He would rather think about how often he would be allowed to sneak kisses and where he might take Chris on a first date. Living in that moment, the one where he could press a kiss to the crown of Chris’ head, was far better than worrying about how other people might react to the change in their relationship.

When Chris began to snore loudly in his ear while drooling on his neck, John felt a surge of contentment that went bone-deep. It felt right; it felt like home. He brushed another kiss over Chris’ hair then closed his own eyes. Naps always threw his internal clock off so he rarely took them… but he was warm, he was happy, and sleep was too hard to resist.

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo first I wanna give a plug for the youtube channel that kinda kept me afloat the last couple months. If you enjoy let's plays and funny jokes, maybe check out [Press Buttons and Talk](https://m.youtube.com/results?search_query=press+buttons+and+talk). They're fantabulous.
> 
> Now. XD The next thing I have planned for this series is a multi-chaptered fic that has a few different POVs. It'll bring Derek back and further the plot, and I am super worried about it. So if any of you are willing/able to give me a hand, shoot me a message on [Tumblr](http://tahlreth.tumblr.com). Thanks! :D


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